Haaretz says today that it could be that Russian hackers have got into systems operating out of Ben Gurion. Many civil and military systems are common. So it could be a twitchy day at the office for the head of the Israeli Defence Force. There’s a connection between Iran and USA. We are into new warfare.

For decades airborne and ground-based ECM (electronic counter measures) have been part of the phase into operations. Specialised units have been used to jam radars, especially target acquisition units in opposing forces. Simple really: bland radars and cannot see you easily.

The Iran connection showed up last week. After the Iranians took out an American Intel drone, instead of bombing a couple of bases in Iran, the Americans cyber-hit Iranian target acquisition units. Job done. No blood. No lost votes at UN. And basic jamming is a cheap and easy job. The kit is sold in Ukraine for $20,000 a unit. It has an operational range of 500 kilometres. Good enough for border warfare. Does it work? Takes out GPS signals. So, yes it does. It’s the new world transition to war order of combat.

Boris was told not to join the meeting. That way he could not make a cock-up. He need not have bothered. The five were dull and only Hunt looked like a PM and that, as Boris’s people will tell us, is all that matters. But there was one new aspect: A Monk in Waiting.

Rory Stewart, is way behind and showed himself as lacking the bite needed in Number Ten. He chews things over instead of biting the most obvious bit off any argument. PM’s when good are biters. But take heart, Stewart may not be a leader but he could be the new Sir Keith Joseph – known in the 70s as the The Monk of the Tory gov. Moral keeper of the Party. Stewart is far the best to take up Joseph’s role as keeper of the Tory conscience.

And the others? Low bred Tory ore for the highest office. In the end, we follow the numbers and to prove his people right, Boris lost nothing last night. None of them had anything to say.

Gove was embarrassingly gushing and assumed an audience of fools.

Hunt fouled his pitch by selling himself as a former entrepreneur and multi millionaire – the second most detested type in Britain today.

Raab and Javid? Who?

Stewart, a fine housemaster in a good school.

So it’s Boris (about whom the First Minister of Scotland was right). All a bit sad.

He’s gone. Trump came to UK and was supposed to cause problems. Apart from voting for Boris when he should be voting for Jeremy, he got the politics right. He was supposed to crowd the Royals who supposedly don’t care for him. They got on fine. Ninety minutes nattering with the Queen is more than most make.

And his family? His wife looked grim. The rest? Missed them all together. Duchess of Sussex. She was doing the 4 o’clock feed. Didn’t see her. Prince Harry stopped by, said Hi, and that was that.

So what about the eye-balling and grump stuff? Not there. Why did we think it would be? Because our newspaper and broadcasting pundits told us that it would be a bit of a farce with every one waiting for the President to cause. But they were wrong, just as they have been wrong about most Brexit things.

When Trump says fake news, what he should be saying is that far too many of the correspondents don’t make it up, they just get it wrong.

So trump with Piers Morgan was the best bit of the visit. The fact that the BBC devoted so much coverage to him with commentators saying nothing because they had nothing and didn’t know the rest.

We should be glad he came. Trump has sharpened up. He’s learned how to act the part of President and can play the humour game. His aside when he publicly asked Jeremy Hunt if he thought Michael Gove would make a good Prime Minister was beautiful timing and worthy of Jack Benny.

Mind you, the US election is to come. It may be that he returns to being the grotesque and nasty guy that he was last time. For now, Trump’s fine and a lot better than the thirteen Tories lining up to do what Mrs May couldn’t do because it cannot be done. Trump told them so. They smiled smugly and waved him farewell. Hunt was the only one who showed respect rather than sycophancy – could be Hunt learned that from his father Nick, one of the finest and shrewdest admirals the Royal Navy had. Trump will remember that.

Every sensible and sound financial, economic and forensically political global organisations in the world discusses with enormous caution the plus side of the UK leaving Europe. That’s almost every one and every organisation we have considered Okay during the past 50 years. That’s about every one we should be listening to telling the UK not to leave Europe.

But we are going to leave. Each British politician who says stay is seen by the majority, maybe a slight majority of the public as well as a fool. O let’s just get on with it it.

This weekend I spoke to a member of the Bank of England who said the evidence of the bank is horrifying to read. He said even the arch Brexiteer Jacob Rees-Mogg believes there will no benefit for half a century.

And yet, our Prime Minister (suffering too much judgement failure because her Diabetes?) plus the majority of Cabinet and God help us if we have to fathom the leadership of the Opposition, have all failed to argue any case with any intellectual persuasion and have simply assumed the biggest decision since 1939 for the British can be pursued with little no depth.

Why are we so badly led? Why is the political set at Westminster so dismal in its own debate and almost corrupt in its public reasoning? Why does the country have so little confidence in the way it is led?

I ask this as a Brexiteer of sorts who has been convinced by people in other European institutions, plus the World Bank, that there is no sound argument for going. But the frightening aspect is that we are badly led, by people of no political nor intellectual depth. Please someone tell me why.

All Intelligence Officers are first trained to read newspapers and magazines. This training is especially important to Military Intelligence because most, perhaps 90 per cent of what an IO desk officer is looking for is freely and constantly available if you know where to look and listen. Today, it is the stagecraft of the Bellingcat reporting group in London that is working on the same guidelines about the same subjects as MI6 and the CIA.

It is a tried and tested system with 3,000 years history. Moses used it. So did the Greeks.

The earliest Intelligence was found in how to read the weather and how to listen to travellers’ tales. A nomad telling a market trader that a small army was camped 600 miles away and ships were being built in a foreign port was the first hints of the 13th century BC Trojan Wars to come thousands of years ago.

The same techniques are used today. The job of a Russian military Intelligence Officer in Washington is to report each fortnight snippets from the defence magazines and papers – the back pages of Aviation Week is a good example where a one line comment may not make the on-line edition read back in Moscow. Most of what he send back is new to Russian Intelligence (not so informed as some people claim) or it confirms what they knew – an equally important aspect of Intelligence gathering (as any office gossip would agree).

A complete example of this simple building of the Intelligence Plot is Intelligence reporting on Syria based on deployment of troops from four nations (Syria, Russia, Turkey and Iran), on what readiness state they are; where are supporting elements such a fuel, ammunition and medical; at what leave are forces on readiness to return to units; where are the major force commanders (in HQ or on leave) and how consistent are media reports on troop movements, readiness of sea, land air and who is commanding what.

All this can be found in open sources – newspapers, news letters, traffic reports, railway station requisition notices, 90 minutes satellite passes, border queues and even full or empty car parks.

Into this equation has come citizen reporting – published in all forms from print to international electronic mediums. Citizen reporting is by people not tied to a major news organisation such as BBC of New York Times but in something as simple as blogging.

There are many organisations and a lot of them are not reliable. They are too keen to get information on line without double checking content and sources. Others have achieved standing of investigative reporting to such an extent that they are read every day by national Intelligence agencies, military, civilian and Homeland plus political and military desk officers who include what they present in official briefing up to heads of government level. One such is Bellingcat.

Bellingcat’s main office in in London’s Leicester Square alongside glamorous first night cinemas that thrive on playing the thrillers that Bellingcat reports for real. The distinction of Bellingcat as a blogging and news service is that everything comes from open sources – that is, sources open to everyone to read if they know where to look. Bellingcat knows where to look and then knows what it is looking at.

It was started in 2012 by Eliot Ward Higgins who had been laid off from the civil service and was still out of work when using a lap top and his dining table as a note desk he started analysing what was going on in the Middle East and Ukraine. He cannot speak languages other than English and so concentrated on visuals; in his case identifying weapons systems. From this he extended his library to open sources on military options – the craft on spotting anything new and importantly, spotting trends. For example he was the person who noticed that the Syrians were using barrel bombs.

Bellingcat gathered top analysts and would-be Intelligence officers who want to show what they knew and how to get what they knew. Today, you will go on the web site and get everything from what they claim is the full story behind the Russian military Intelligence operations from Salisbury, the Ukraine to Syria to South America. Using open sources they can look at a weapon, identify its stock numbers, show who is using and for what and through back tracking, demonstrate on whose authority that weapon is being deployed and in what numbers and therefore the operational plan.

But this is not a one man band. The citizen reporters are often to be found in the most sensitive posts and mainly defence institutions like the RUSI in London especially among young, recent graduates who want to flush out big stories and make their reputations. Retired Intelligence Officers are lining up to take part in this unpaid adventure. Even the editor of the whole organisation is paid no more than a local newspaper rate. But unpaid, citizen reporting given a platform that otherwise they’d never see or be seen is getting its own publicity.

The guide lines are simple: trust, check and double check. The television station France 24 does this same all over the world with its 24Reporters. So nothing new, but one trip to Salisbury with a bottle of Novichock has Russian Intelligence and Bellingcat in the world spot light. Only Russian Military Intelligence has President Putin asking what the hell is going on. The guys in Leicester Square have no worries yet. They just keep their eyes and ears open and, unlike the Russian intelligence officers, stick to the guide lines. Success?

Bellingcat has shown that it was not difficult to reveal to a wide audience what has been going on in Russian intelligence operations from open sources (one paragraph, one driving licence number, one school photograph, one grandma’s mantelpiece newspaper curtain etc) that all lead to the main story from bits of stories in newspapers in 20 languages, official reports, weather forecasts and asides about cars trapped and all checked, rechecked and checked again until the stream of titbits becomes a major international event. Bellingcat 2018 is the gossip in the global Intelligence market talking to the unsuspecting nomad of today. So far, 10/10

We became friends about 40 years ago. After ten years he told me so. The postcards signed Peter Cin his cramped fist became Peter. Everything in Lord C’s life was explained.

He with three centuries of recorded history. Pitt the Younger’s banker; Uncle Charlie in the playroom of the future Edward VII; he, Leader in the Lords; Knight of the Garter; three jobs as Secretary of State; chairman of the Tories; High Commissioner Australia; chairman the V&A, Christies; Secretary General NATO. Gainsboroughs on the walls.

Me? Conceived aboard a Thames sailing barge. First job £90 a year deck boy plus a shilling washing allowance in a rusting tramp ship ticking off every port and most bars in a two year circumnavigation. No history further back than a grandpa whose name I never heard.

The rest, plays, books, university was catch-up. Carrington’s life was pre-ordained.

His background said there would be what he called big jobs. When Churchill telephoned to invite him to join his government, PC’s butler told WSC that his Lordship was shooting partridge. Could he phone later? When he did so, Churchill asked him to “join my shoot.” Macmillan liked that style. He said if all else failed, Carrington could always go back to his estates.

Two people quite different but we had in common, a belief in what we wanted from leadership and for society. Bobbity Salisbury meets Rab Butler: sometimes it’s better to do nothing. That, was true power. Thatcherism meets Tocqueville – democracy challenges liberty. The institutions, guardians of the former. We the people uncertain about the latter.

All this over lunch at White’s or The Athenaeum where he complained about too many bishops eating too well in that place although he liked Norwich.

Lunch was always at 1245 and always done by 2 and he asked questions to see what I knew. We always ate the fish and rice pudding. He because it was nursery food. I because I thought it was.

I told him what I’d heard and he sometimes told me the truth of it. Carrington kept his secrets well. Yet, he bruised easily.

Over one rice pudding (no jam) he said how Mark Thatcher, was one of the few people he would detest for ever. It was a puzzle. Thatcher’s son declaring he had nothing much to do that day had gate crashed a lunch party for his mother at the Carringtons. Surely there was always room for one more? No. Cook and the butler were preparing. They were not to be messed about.

It was not a question of enough chops to go round. What would be discussed at the table was a matter of State so Carrington was annoyed at the PM for allowing her son, whom Carrington thought a shallow fellow anyway, to attend a sensitive meeting.

Lessons of what was done and what was not done had survived the Carrington Code for decades as well as furious time keeping and grooming at Sandhurst. Curiously, from our totally different backgrounds, the ground rules were the same. The social distinctions were different, the reasons were not.

Strict and First Baptist Reform Church of Nuxley Road ruled that you were there on time, you said nothing unless it pleased, rudeness was as unforgivable as unwashed hands and minded manners kept your peace and encouraged the truth. Similar values. Different nannies.

Carrington in difficulty from Arnhem to the Falklands would always ask himself what nanny would have done. I, with fewer and lesser responsibilities, always wondered in fear what the Reverent Clifford would have said.

Thus we so different in origins acted out codes under the cover of at least half truths. The best half truth is in Limericks. A Limerick, he said, never fibbed. Even recently, he was still at it. Strictly AABBA

A Remainder named May

changed her mind one day

And said Brexit was easy

And not at all sleazy

Even though Brussels said Nay

And just April past Carrington wondered why there was no political authority in the country. No true political leadership on either side. Where, he asked, were the heroes, the lions the big beasts of politics. Thatcher’s first Cabinet had five MCs with minds of their own. But no more.

A Knight of the Garter going grey

Asked where were the big beasts today

Told the Commons are empty

When once there were plenty

Said, only Ken, only Clarke, and he’s soon away

I sometimes thought Carrington only knew big beasts. I knew all his friends but mostly had to be introduced. Looking at me very carefully over a recent bit of fish he said it was not who you know, but who knows you. Carrington never had to say who he was.

In the early days he would introduce me to someone with “Do you know each other” – in other words, you will not have met before. On the other hand, except for the statutory three months silence in the Mess for an ensign in the Grenadiers, Carrington had never walked into a room without everyone knowing who he was.

There is of course here another Carrington protocol to master. I once failed to introduce him to a distinguished writer assuming they knew each other. They didn’t. He made it clear he was annoyed. I apologised. Mm, he said.

The step change in our friendship came when I became his biographer and therefore everything I noticed inspired a question.

A new photograph or an obscure sporting print appeared in the boot-room. Why? Family connection? Had to go somewhere therefore not unimportant. An ordinary friend doesn’t have to think like an MI5 officer. A mannerism becomes, for the biographer, a motive. An aside from him is followed by “And then what happened? When was that?” from me.

When we agreed I should write the Carrington biography he insisted it should never be published in his lifetime. That way, he said, you can write what you like, I shall never have to read it and we can still be friends. It meant of course one of the social protocols being abandoned. I could never ask when we met, “How are you?”

The guy who used to sweep the yard outside our Sadova-Samotechnaya apartment in Moscow would listen to the news on the portable I gave him, shake his head and mutter Nichevo, nichevo, nichevo, spit into the leaves and carry on sweeping. Best hear nothing then there’s no need to believe.

Nothing nothing nothing. I got through to his son (who now employs 200 to sweep) and asked him about Putin and Trump. That’s right: before we stumble across all the experts, analysts and think tankers let’s put a bit of Russian realism into Helsinki: Nichevo, nichevo, nichevo, he said.

Great story about Putin being late. Great story about Trump dumping on his Intelligence people. But just think about it. Putin keeps everyone except the Chinese waiting and Trump has been fanging his Intelligence people on a regular basis for months.

And we all know Trump does it differently. So nothing, nothing, nothing new.

Then how come the news analysts wont sleep for days. How come grizzled correspondents are putting that news conference close to the end of the Jurasic reel? They are, we are, because we still find it difficult knowing Trump (rubbishes NATO, bad mouths May but doesn’t mean it – but of course he does) and not clear about Putin (says nothing but does it – ask the Syrians).

In other words, we are still looking for the predictability we were used to in Clinton-Bush (1&2) -Obama decades. In times past we were predictable because they only talked nuclear warhead numbers and verification processes. These were the processes of the Cold War. Today even the concept of war has changed. We go to other people’s wars.

Thus, a whole lot of issues that once were urgent, are no long so important. You can go to a bi-lateral Helsinki and all the issues on the editor’s desk are no longer important. They become less relevant when the American President no longer sees them as issues and doesn’t understand what the hell they’re about anyway.

Supporting Russia’s re-entry to the G7 is all that is needed for everyone to smile when the deal is tied.

A done deal is when you’re making 2 cents on the dollar said the New York numbers man, Willy Griesman. In other words, try for too much and the whole street wants some. And as his great buddy the Yankees catcher Yogi Berra joined in with a hotel story “The towels were so thick I could hardly get them into my case.” Meaning? Everyone on a trip gets something different out of it.

That’s what’s happened this time. Trump should have stuck to another round at Turnberry and Putin just went home – he’s already got a 86% rating.

What they said in Helsinki was gosh and golly stuff. When these two guys who run most of the world got home what was said did not change the world, did not explain anything about anything. Nice cars. Putin needs a new suit. And what was with the football thing? Nichevo, nichevo, nichevo

Kim Jong-un says North Korea has developed ‘weaponisation” so from this passing weekend, North Korea will stop testing.

Nuclear weapons engineers will say this is nonsense. The job of being a nuclear weapon state has only just begun.

But for the moment at least, North Korea has reached the goal of its leader, that of a state able to put even a small nuclear warhead on a long range missile, fire that missile into outer space and then guide its return into the earth’s atmosphere, release warheads and direct each one onto targets that include the United States, certainly China and certainly Japan.

That makes North Korea a member of an exclusive club that somewhere has a technology base that can return to production and ever be in scientific and technological research state to bring the missile and the guidance and launch systems to a longer range and higher readiness, the re-entry process more reliable and the delivery systems more accurate and threatening.

President Trump should not need to be told this.

The series of North South and East-West meetings begin this coming week. North and South Korea meet openly, US-Korean officials meet quietly and then, perhaps as early as June, President Trump meets President Kim.

At that point, Kim Jong-Un achieves that which has eluded himself, his ancestors and something which is not always understood in Western capitals. President Kim has yearned for respect as a ‘proper’ leader of an important country. He reads the progress in international recognition achieved by Pakistan when it became a nuclear weapons power and immediately a state able to kill millions of its decades old enemy India at the press of half a dozen buttons.

In just a decade of fast technology he’s made the US take him seriously. Rocket Man is not a joke Trump lyric.

He may tell us that North Korea’s nuclear weapons ambitions are over, but like the rest of the black mushroom growers, the genii is out of the bottle. His people know how to do it and, who knows when the disappointment of international treatment and recognition will mean a return to the test sites.

And to test the value of his new position, remember that Mr Kim will be receiving Mr Trump, not the other way round. Mr Trump has to go to him. Mr Kim will step his own higher ground.

What would they want? An official end to the Korean War. That is an easy found formality. A recognition that North Korean is an equal partner in the strategic balance of the Korean Peninsular, Eastern China and Japan for starters. That is status worth having. It will also be a process that leads to the true lessening of conflict: sign a contract with a potential enemy that boosts its economy and allows the country to grow for a fat enemy rarely goes to war.

The bringing about of this summit, if it happens, will be largely the work of President Moon of South Korea with the nitty sorted by the three heads of Intelligence of America, South Korea and North Korea.

Mr Kim will get his respect and will settle some of the uncertainties of the ruling North Korean families who are saying the Mr Kim must change his ways if the country is not to fold economically and collapse. Mr Moon will sweep aside the continued feeling that he could fall at any moment. And Mr Trump?

In America, even senior politicians have never heard of any efforts other than the tough-talk of their President. If it works, he will be the man who brought 60 years of crisis to an end and made Kim Jong-un close down his nuclear threat.

The tailpiece in Washington to this is an irony: undoubtedly, if a June meeting is the type of success we imagine, then there will a strong movement for a Nobel Peace Prize. So? So there is no way the FBI could file against a Peace Nobel Laureate Trump.

Could anything spoil what is possible? Yes.

Whatever agreement between North Korea and the US, it is extremely likely that Congress will not ratify any treaty on the grounds of it being impossible to verify North Korea keeping the test sites closed.

In other words, June’s not far but there are years to go before Mission Accomplished make sense.

Was a time when every think tanker and foreign affairs journal spent a week telling us how to fix Libya. British forces still have a handle on Libya, but the place is no closer to a stable security platform that it was a year ago. It was the last place that Britain, France etc decided to help on its way to peace by giving it a mini-bombing. It’s still a mess. So what happened?

Firstly its state institutions — the vertebra of any nation’s stability — are corrupted and fearful of their values and inability to exercise any authority in case they have damned and worse beyond by the militias and competing military and political groups.
So many different groupings, all of which are uncompromisingly armed, fail to allow these institutions to cross fertilise and so they have little value. The first consequence of such naked corruption of power is the country run on violence, a mini economy of its own. War has its own economy and in Libya it becomes an industrial employer of corruption, exploitation of resources — including oil – and the continuing if mostly now internationally ignored lucrative mini economy of human trafficking.
In short, Libya has developed violence as a convertible economy in a society that should be living of oil dollars. Corruption as an economy in itself sets the values of most of Libya and therefore any conflict breeds further and wider spread violence.
The ultimate horror is that the economic values of corruption and violence are too powerful to resist and thus functional government has no attraction.
The reality is that Libya is a black-market where every concession has a price and the line to set that price changes hands many times.
There is of course a UN negotiator to resolve the problems of this oil state and to bring warring factions together. Ghassan Salame works at fruitless chores. The UN says the single incentive that may bring some ground rule for a stabilised state is an election. In spite of the rubble of democracy in that place, some 2.3 millions Libyans believe in elections even if the country is run by hoodlums and gangsters who keep in some form of power the two rival groups of authority. Thus an election would be fought with gunfire at the order of the two main characters in this black opera, Fayez as-Sarraj and Khalifa Haftar. The libretto of change is through the emergence of a charismatic figure, in Libya’s case the son of Colonel Gaddafi, Saif al-Islam Gaddafi. How long would he survive?
This then is the pitch and roll of Libya. It is rich and corrupt. If it ever worked as a state, it would need a vicious grip of figure who would never again sleep in the same bed every night. The Son of Gaddafi? It is an irony that one day the United Nations will have to accept and leading the praise for it would be the same people who ordered air attacks to bring down his father. In some deeper moment, the moral distinction is blurred and that corruption that is an economy of its will fail and another will take its place.
A hopeless concept? Look around the Middle East since the Arab spring and rest finally on Syria. How soon before President Assad will once more be the undisputed President. And that is the lesson of Libya, yet another forgotten war. It is a place of stenching moral high grounds – partly manured by the actions of friends who went to help and then left when it all became too difficult. A conveniently forgotten war.

For those who said a meeting between Donald Trump and Kim Jong-un was straight out of the La La Land handbook of the pursuit of dreams, then maybe a re-read of the script is worth a while.

President Trump this morning Tweeted in his own La La manner that his CIA director Mike Pompeo was back in Washington after a trip to North Korea during Easter for a meeting with Kim Jong-un. The idea is to fix a summit meeting between Trump and Kim Jung-un, probably in June.

Why would the director CIA be used in this role? Answer: he is Mr Trump’s choice as his next Secretary of State, his foreign minister.

The published hope is to get some deal whereby the North Koreans will give up their nuclear weapons programme in return for a treaty officially ending the 1950-1953 war between North Korea supported by China and South Korea supported by a UN force led by the United States. When fighting stopped, an armistice was declared not an official end to the conflict. Under a new agreement, North Korea would expect sanctions against its economy to be lifted.

This sounds and is all too simple a way to resolve a 65 year-old strategic conundrum that could even now lead the world into nuclear war. A few months ago Trump and Kim Jong-un were openly insulting each other in some Mediaeval pre-war pageant. Trump was threatening to rain down fire and fury. Kim was telling the world Trump needed a brain fix. Today the two men are clearing the diaries for what would be one of the most significant political summits since Reagan met Gorbachev in 1986.

Given this importance, there’s more to it that time clear up a bit of history with a wrong ending and, it goes much wider than Trump doing business his way and Kim Jong-un wanted the status of an international leader with an arsenal of nuclear warheads. It is the story of three, not two ambitions. For Europeans keen to live in a world without black mushroom clouds, then the political tact of Moon Jae-in, the South Korean President should be understood.

Mr Moon is the person who has persuaded Kim to at least publicly murmur that getting rid of nuclear weapons is in the deck of negotiations the three leaders are now shuffling. Six months ago when North Korean were doing a missile or warhead test every couple of weeks, such language was unknown never mind expressed. Moon moved on the real politik. While most watched Washington and Pyongyang for signs of coming together, it was Moon who spotted hesitations and repeats of key words in statements and knew when to nudge the discussions into apparently harmless areas of agreement that a meeting might be possible. There is no point in a meeting unless agreement is possible, otherwise it is a major failure of diplomacy.

Moon became the arch diplomat in praise of famous men only. He said Trump deserved huge credit for almost everything. Mr Trump was pleased. He said Mr Kim was wise. Mr Kim was pleased. So this week the two Korean leaders meet for the next move towards a summit and the CIA director reports back to the Oval Office that everything looks in good-fix mode. June could be summit month.

Or could it? Kim Jong-un is likely to be playing a harder game. Above everything he wants to be treated with respect. He could blow the world in half and would be willing to do so his people in the alleys of South Korea say. Trump could fires someone and pull out of a summit on instinct. Moon could loose his own people in the dangerous political gambit he is playing. But if they pull this June meeting and with it the nuclear agreement and the distinction of affording respect then the most dangerous arc on the globe could become something quite different.

And here is something: if the trio hold this together, what’s the betting there’s a joint Nobel Peace Prize. Who would have thought that in January 2017.